Monday, May 02, 2011

Lookit, it's been a week (a month? a period of time) of last straws. Sometimes it only takes that one extra molecule to be The One That Tips The Cart. It's not just the blog, it's a lot of other things, too. I'm just absolutely fed up with some of the crap. Perhaps this running thing is making me [even] meaner and just a touch on edge, and now on top of it all, I seem to have a sprained (?) ankle. Lovely.

On the topic of the blog: There are some people who should not read here. This has come up once or twice before. They don't understand the medium, they don't understand me. They think it's all about them. Their eyes are too sensitive for the way I write, and it has nothing to do with them. And I am pissed off.

I wish they would go away, but meddlers just can't stop being meddlers, and they don't seem to leave, even though I apparently offend their sensibilities.

Most of the time, it's no big deal. I mutter "F.U." under my breath and I carry on. It doesn't even register as a blip on my radar. But when it's a Last Straw Week, I just have to say it out loud. And then I might just have to break something. So here in this instance, you could say I'm symbolically breaking the blog for a bit so I don't end up putting somebody's eyes out or something.

Sadly, this might make all the good and friendly and supportive readers feel like I'm punishing them or that I'm talking about them (the ones who are on the same page, the ones who are my dear friends in real life and virtually, and who understand blogs and understand humor and metaphor and rhetoric and hyperbole and self-expression, the ones who aren't going to pick apart everything I write and turn it into something it isn't).

As always, the ones to whom a criticism is directed are the ones who just don't get it.

Whatever.

Do not take from this that the terrorists and the busybodies have won. Oh, no. You know I'll probably be back. I'm just taking a rest.

After I rest, I might just come out a-roarin'. So watch out.

In the meantime, meddling busybodies are kindly invited to go find something else to worry about and gossip about, and forget about this blog. I'd appreciate it. Thanks.

Monday, March 07, 2011

Well, now. We all know about my traveling mojo as it seems to have developed over the past few years, and so I guess it should come as little surprise that I am still at home.

And yet, I am surprised.

Good grief. There was a storm predicted for the afternoon yesterday, but my flight was at noon, and I thought I'd make it out before anything untoward happened. But it was not looking good even as we were driving to the airport in the morning. When I arrived, they announced that my plane was going to be delayed about an hour -- not because of the storm, but because of mechanical difficulties.

Then, sitting at the gate, the other passengers and I were looking out the windows and going, "Hm. This isn't looking too promising."

The people with whom I was sitting and chatting, it turns out, were not taking JetBlue as I was, but a different airline, and they were all of a sudden boarded with great haste by the crew. They were just barely told to board when a second announcement was made: "If you want to get on this flight, please hurry! The door will be closed in ONE MINUTE!" I have never seen those crew members scanning those barcodes on the boarding passes so fast.

I said goodbye to my new friends, and then the announcement was immediately made that my flight was canceled. Arrangements could be made right there at the gate, but if the line grew too long, the rest of us would have to return to the ticket counter. Then the announcement was made, "If you have checked a bag, you will have to go to the ticket counter."

So I rushed to the ticket counter. And the line was already immense (by Burlington standards). And then I saw on the board that the flight that my fellow waiting passengers had been so hastily boarded onto had a new status: CANCELLED. Those poor sods. Well, at least they weren't sitting on the tarmac for three hours or something.

The storm came more quickly and with more force than was predicted. So anyway, here I am back home, in limbo a bit. Not sure when I'm going to make it to D.C., but it will be replanned sometime and somehow.

I had a new experience with the TSA. I was patted down for the simple reason that I was wearing a skirt. I do acknowledge that this is no joke: Imagine what-all you could hide under a skirt, I suppose, even though you've gone through the metal detector already. (In my case, just thighs that needed to be shaved, but I digress.)

I'm still laughing about the instructions the (female) agent gave me: "I'll be asking you to spread your legs first one way and then the other. And then I'll be running my hands up each of your legs until I meet resistance."

Yeah. That's what he said.

So, I bet you're all wondering who the winners of my blogiversary comment contest are! All commenters since February 23, when I first announced the contest, were assigned a number. Then I ran the Random Number Generator for the winners. Here are the results:

I think this is a first in my contests -- that all the winners happen to be bloggers. Thanks for all your comments, and thanks for playing. I've notified the winners via email, except Elisa, whose email address did not come through in her comments. Elisa, I hope you are reading -- and if so, please email me and send me your snail mail address so I can ship out the cashmere.

Sunday, March 06, 2011

Today marks seven years of writing in this space, almost every day. 2,321 posts, to be exact.

Seven years!

Seven.

Years.

That's longer than most marriages nowadays, I think, and it's fair cause for a celebration.

I even baked a cake for the occasion. Well, really I baked it because Abigail whined asked me for a cake. I used this recipe, and yes, I used all that white cake flour and sugar and butter and eggs and buttermilk. A girl can't live by green smoothies alone. Once in a while a little indulgence is in order, if only to remind oneself that one should not indulge.

I am probably paying for it today as you read this, but at least it was a good cake. I was quite pleased with myself that I sort of remembered how to bake. I used to be a right proper baker. I had a sourdough going in the fridge at all times, and I baked bread at least weekly, not to mention pastries. But it's been a very, very long time. I had forgotten what a big mess it makes to cook a big meal and bake a cake. I'm out of practice.

I'm also out of practice at greasing and flouring a pan and turning out a cake. Exhibit A:

Oh, hell no.

No, I'm sorry. There is just no amount of fixing or fussing or fudging or remolding or remodeling, Julia Child style, that could make that thing acceptable to serve at a dinner party or bring to a potluck. But! It sure did taste great. If I have to pay the price of the inflamed joints and/or messed-up sinuses today, at least it was a good cake.

It seems very fitting that my package of Icelandic yarn and the pattern for that scrumptious sweater arrived yesterday. I was notified that it was shipped ages ago, and I was starting to wonder if it was coming here by Viking longboat (to borrow Mel's phrase when I was chatting with him about it the other day).

I thought there was only going to be the one pattern in this sweater kit, but it's a whole 36-page book, chock full of some really good-looking patterns. Check some of them out:

I can't wait to get started on that sweater. The zipper they sent me is beautiful -- very classy, with very lovely pulls -- but it's lonnnnng, so I'm not sure how that is going to work out. I may have to settle for one from a less nice source, but we'll see. Perhaps the sweater will be more tunic-length than was my original plan. Problem is, the zipper seems to me to be too long for the "right" length, and too short for a true tunic length. It'll hit right at an unfortunate place on my anatomy, I fear.

I wish I could take it with me on the trip I am embarking on today, BUT I am going to remain true to my promise to myself to do one project at a time, and take along the Geode sweater instead.

About that trip, it also seems very fitting that on my very blogiversary, I will be flying down to Washington D.C. to spend a few days in meetings with the good folks at my favorite cause, and the one most near and dear to the heart of this blog: The Orphan Foundation of America. We'll be discussing red scarves and much other general goodness.

The opportunities and experiences brought to me by the blog have been plentiful. I've used this place to sound off, to bitch and moan, to get angry, to be happy, to be sad, to make new friends (and lose a few), to soapbox and to learn, to do my cheerleading and my cajoling, and to move through a few life phases. And now a couple more new and exciting doors have opened. Expect to hear more about that -- much more -- from me in the future.

So Mr. Jefferies just barely got home, and I'm leaving again for another few days. It's all right -- I spoiled him a lot for the one day and two nights we were together.

Anywaaaaay... we fell quite far short of my hoped-for 60,000 comments by the time of my blogiversary. We are somewhere in the range of 56,520. Even though we did not hit the mark, and comments dropped off after the initial flutter and flurry that the mention of cashmere and a cat mug (who knew a cat mug would get so much interest?) created, I'll still award the prizes. Tomorrow I will announce the winners of my comment contest.

Also: I wish I had a dollar -- or hell, I'll be generous -- even 50 cents -- for every page view for the life of this blog. My bank account would be this fat:

$2,821,764

So go ahead and see if I care! Be stingy with the comments! Just send a buck every time you read.

Thursday, February 24, 2011

All right, apparently that wasn't enough of an enticement. As of this writing, I only managed to beg 85 comments out of you. If we're going to even begin to approximate Margene's, we've got to hit at least 100 a day for the next two weeks. So I only give you a B- for your efforts. Think I'm a hard grader? Tough! It's my rules!

Fine, then. Maybe if I show you a picture of the pretty cashmere.

That's quite a lot of yardage, it's aran weight, and it fluffs up like you would not believe when it's washed (you'll want to wash it before you knit it, because these cones are intended and treated for machine knitting). I can show you something that I knitted with a similar amount of this yarn several years ago:

Not enough? How about this:

That's a stunning 400m of Bamboo/Merino/Bison laceweight.

Or these DVDs:

And Mr. Jefferies has thrown in a gift, as well:

Better get those comments in. You never know which one is the right one.

Wednesday, February 23, 2011

Well, you'd think that without the little Yorkshire Terrier running around trying to be the boss of me, and getting under foot and causing all kinds of chaos, life would be a lot easier. But no. It's more like I have phantom-limb syndrome. Always hearing the pitter-patter of little feet, always thinking I need to rush to get home to take care of him, always wondering what despoilation he's up to, and missing him on my lap and my chest and making me laugh. (The latest "I wish I had a video camera moment" was when he was "boxing" at me with his front paws and trying to stare me down, to get me to stop brushing him. Adorable doesn't even begin to describe it.) He really is a true love, that one.

So, no. Even though I am so busy right now, with so much going on that requires so much of my attention, and it's a time that, by rights, it should make it easier not to have him here, it's not helping.

David is in the same state. David, the confirmed (ha) non-lover of dogs. He's still reporting, "I took him out and he peed and he p... No, wait. That didn't happen."

I went for a brisk walk after my morning shift yesterday, because I needed to clear my head -- and clear my head the 2-degree-Fahrenheit temperatures surely did. I couldn't help myself, but I went on the regular lunchtime route that Mr. Jefferies usually drags me on. It just seemed like the right thing to do. And the whole time, I knew I was alone, but I was worrying about the cold and the salt hurting his paws.

Nuts, I tell you. Absolute bonkers nuts. But I never said any of that, and don't say I did. I'll deny it.

But anyway.... I've been able to soldier on. I plunked a few seeds (50 to be exact, which I thought would be enough, but is not even the beginning of enough) in some poo pots:

At least I'm calling them poo pots. They are those things -- some of you know them -- that are flat little disks. They used to be called Jiffy peat pots, these things, but this packaging from a Canadian company is all about saving our peat bogs (I typoed "blogs," of course) and claims that by using their little disk thingies instead of peat ones, you are saving the peat blogs (I did it again) of the world. They call them "fiber" pots, and nowhere on the packaging can I find WHAT they are actually made of -- what kind of fiber, pray tell. But I swear to you that, when I wet them, the aroma was unmistakably moo doo. I really don't mind. If you are giving me dung pots, just be honest and tell me so. I'm all about saving the peat b(l)ogs too!

So what else. OMG, there is just so much going on. Soon my blogiversary is coming up, and not that it's a competition or anything, but I started my blog about the same time as my dear friend Margene. And as a part of HER blogiversary, she recently had a contest to reach her 60,000th comment. She had written considerably fewer entries than I had, and had almost 5,000 more comments in her blog lifetime than I. How is that fair, I ask you?! (KIDDING) I haven't been able to hold up my end of the blog-community bargain very well for the last year, at least. So I deserve to have you just pretend I don't exist. (Stop it! I'm taking the piss out of myself and NOT having a pity party as it seems. You have to hear the voice[s] in my head to realize my tone of voice.) (snork)

But. What if I were to bribe you a little, to give you an idea of what I'm going to be giving away on MY blog birthday? [a cone of cashmere, a skein of bison laceweight in red?] And told you that it all depends on your comments, and maybe some surprise commenter in the next two weeks will be the winner? Would that get you to show me the comment love? Nah, never mind. I refuse to beg. Poor li'l adorable Mr. Jefferies only got like 10 comments yesterday -- a blogging Yorkie who umpty-billion people claim they read and adore! And if HE can't garner the comments, when he works so hard to put on his dog-and-person show, nobody can. I'm not even gonna try.

Anyway, I'm sorta too busy to handle the comments right now. And don't expect an answer from me! This is a one-way street, and don't you forget it!

I'm not complaining. Here are some numbers to let you chaw on. They sort of stun me. For realz.

Lifetime Pageviews: 2,807,877

Total Posts: 2,290

Total Comments: 55,812

I have written 2,290 blog posts in THIS blog (more in other blogs such as the Red Scarf Blog), and I've answered in excess of 50,000 emails, in the seven years I've been blogging. I think I need to lie down, actually.

And in other news, WHAT TOOK ME SO LONG to get this book????

Even if I never knit a thing from this book... but I probably will... it is just so much like drinking my favorite cup of Earl Grey tea, with a nice piece of almond tea cake, that I can hardly stand it. Funny -- I've only owned one other Elizabeth Zimmermann book in my life. I bought it, and then sold it (or gave it away or something), and then bought it again because someone (or a bunch of someones) told me I needed it for something, and both times I was underwhelmed and considered myself the anti-EZ fan, and wondered what defective knitter's gene I had been cursed with. But THIS one.... THIS one is really something special.

Now, for that lie-down. But first, I have a lot of work to do. (Work has 'sploded, and you know that makes me happy, very happy. But it also makes me a little bit tired. Thank goodness I took advantage of that slow period to cleanse and rest up and pack my cells with nutrients. I need 'em.) And you,.... well, you just drift in and out and don't bother to leave a comment. Nobody will mind, especially not the winner of that fucking cone of cashmere.

Wednesday, February 16, 2011

I was mad at Typepad for ignoring my help ticket for three days about my comment emails not being sent. So I finally came up for air from the work week that ate my life, and, filled with smoke and fury, went in to put in another YELLING LOUDLY help ticket, asking WHY HASN'T THIS BEEN RESPONDED TO YET? and I found the answer something to the effect, "I checked and there have been no other complaints about this, so are you sure it's not in your spam folder? If some other spam content came through in comments, they might then redirect all the emails from Typepad there."

Yuh, RIGHT, I thought. Gmail wouldn't do that. They've never done anything stupid like that before. BUT I had to admit that I had not received the email from the help ticket, either. So perhaps she had something.

I grudgingly went to my Gmail spam folder, and there was her response to my help ticket, along with about 100 comment emails.

NO, STUPID GMAIL. The comment emails from Air Jordans and Coach bags and MAKE UR DICK HARD and Cheap Viagra are SPAM. NOT MY FRIENDS' COMMENTS, thankyouverymuch.

Sunday, January 16, 2011

And good morning lurkers. Thank you for coming out of the mists, those of you who did. You made me smile!

This "Not a Morning Person" was awake, feeling rested and spectacular, at 6:30 a.m. this morning. I got up, read a while, finished the carpet cleaning I started yesterday, and there was not a craving (for coffee or Diet Coke or chocolate or eggs or bacon or cinnamon buns or.... you name it) in sight.

I've lost 6 pounds in a week, and I do not ever remember feeling so well on any diet or cleanse before. The headache is gone now, and I feel really strong. There is no hunger on this thing! The first week I think there is some psychological hunger. You THINK you are hungry, but it's just that oral fixation thing or boredom going on. I even cooked a meal for David last night -- all the things I love -- Italian chicken sausages, onions, peppers, garlic, layered in a sort of a mock lasagna with a sliced multi-grain wrap to look like noodles, and topped with cheese -- all those Italian smells and tastes I love -- and I didn't take a mouthful. And here's the important part: It was not difficult.

I have developed a sense of super-taste and super-smells. Any whiff of anything that is strong or a little bit "off" sends me searching for the culprit and getting rid of it -- hence the carpet cleaning (thanks, Mr. Jefferies!). I used only vinegar and water (and an enzymatic cleaner for pee spots, ahem,Mr. JEFFERIES) in the carpet cleaner mix, and everything is fresh and clean-smelling. I bargained with David to trudge through the snow to bring the compost out to the bin, in exchange for the meal I cooked him last night, because I just could not stand the smell of the compost.

And now I am enjoying a delicious (really!) breakfast smoothie that I made up of Clean-approved ingredients: butternut squash (raw)*, apple, ginger, coconut water, and agave nectar...

and the song lyrics, "I've got sunshine.... on a cloudy day..." are running through my head.

I might just have become a bit of a crazy zealot. The crazy part we already knew about.

Oh, and P.S. Someone asked: Am I continuing to work out, so that I don't lose lean muscle mass?

Yes. Jumping rope is my love these days (bouncing/impact for bone mass and balance), together with a combo of the elliptical machine or the hiking simulator, and squats, a back-to-basics old-style calisthenics mix (jumping jacks, pushups, etc.), weights, and the rowing machine. I mix it up in a different combination whenever I go into the gym -- a few times a week. I find this keeps my interest up and has good results.

Saturday, November 27, 2010

I was amused on Newshour when they interviewed some guy from Yahoo Finance (he has a name -- Daniel Gross -- it's just that he doesn't mean anything to me, so I will continue to refer to him as "some guy") who said that the media is pretty much the only entity (except those idiots camped out in tents in the sleet and rain, waiting for the doors to open, I suppose) that gets at all excited about Black Friday.

As for me, I never left the house. I made turkey soup stock, I cooked a nice meal, I learned that cinnamon in a slaw vinaigrette tastes horrible and bitter (won't do that again), I knitted (Ouch, my forearms and wrists are killing me, so I've had to slow down on the knitting a bit. Crap.), I watched my new Eddie Izzard DVD.

Monday, November 22, 2010

Little by little, slowly but surely, I am trying to get my life back into order after what will hereinafter be referred to as The Crazy Time [aka The CamPAIN]. But am I? Yes, I think I am. I'm not sure.

I was up at 4:00 this morning due to insomnia brought on by the wild winds outside that woke me up, and then my mind started going a thousand miles a minute.

I now find myself in another one of my periods of under-employment, but this is working in favor of getting some long-overdue organizing and decluttering done in the house and the ability to do things like take impromptu trips to New York and to do some cooking to try to get my nutritional needs back on track and to get in some more exercising and knitting, and even -- *gasp* -- to plan a vacation. It's all good, eh?

I remembered at 4:30 that I had not written a blog post, and decided that it was not too early to do a drawing for the winner of the book. And the winner, as chosen by the Random Number Generator, is long-time reader and commenter Mary Beth Mathews! I've emailed you, Mary Beth. Congratulations to Mary Beth, and thanks to everyone for playing!

It continues to amaze me that all of you have continued to live your lives and write your blogs while I've been In The Mists of The Crazy Time. WTF? Really! I just spent an hour trying to catch up with Anne of Knitspot, and am totally gobsmacked as always as to how productive you are, Anne. And I could die at the beauty of your new sweater, Leaving. DIE. I want one! And/but I've got so much still on my plate, and have to finish up these sweaters I've been working on, and I hate to admit it, but my forearms are again being bothered a bit by the knitting. And the sweater is knitted in Kim's beautiful yarn, and I just had no idea about all this wonderfulness that was going on out there. It's all just like -- Wait, you guys! Slow down!! I can't catch up!

It is truly freezing outside right now, and has been for the past couple of nights. And soooo windy. I'm afraid to look to see whether there is snow swirling out there on that wind. I don't think it was predicted, but I've been too busy or distracted (or something) to look at a forecast.

I did not have a chance to look yesterday, but I'm guessing that my broccoli plants that were hanging on and which I hoped to get some more leaves from for eating (the florets have ceased forming, but I've been harvesting and eating and freezing the leaves) have probably succumbed to the frost. I'll have to check on them today, once the sun comes up.

Also once the sun comes up, I have to make a trip to do a whole bunch of errands -- bringing donations to three or four charities and picking up the turkey and getting some groceries and stuff. This, of course, is probably exactly when it will hit me that I have not had enough sleep and I'll be useless.

Oh! Before I forget it, there have been some inquiries about Red Scarf and someone asked whether I'll be collecting red scarves this year. Well, I've never really collected them -- only been sort of the head cheerleader -- and this year I just haven't had time for that, as I've mentioned once or twice or three hundred times so far. Please, though, I hope you are knitting or crocheting or weaving your scarves and sending them to the Orphan Foundation of America. All the information is on this page.

Even with all that's been going on with me, I've knitted four scarves so far this year, so come on! I know you can do it too! I have asked for a status update from Lynn, but I have not gotten an answer yet. Lynn, if you are reading this, go ahead and put a status update on the scarves in the comments here, if you have one.

Sunday, November 21, 2010

Good morning from your tardy blogger. Mr. Jefferies and I took an impromptu trip to visit Abigail in New York this weekend. I even remembered to bring the camera, and there were plenty of great things to photograph -- most notably the sign in the massage/acupuncture place that we visited yesterday morning -- but sadly for the blog, the old camnesia took hold again.

Ahhhhh, though. We had side-by-side mother/daughter foot reflexology, but first they put our feet into buckets of hot tea. And then we had hot stone full-body massages. Life.is.goooooooood.

I also could have welcomed you this morning with a great pee place post -- I haven't done those in a while, have I?! The rest area in Guilford, VT, just over the Massachusetts border, could have provided you with entertainment for a week. Well, OK, maybe I'm exaggerating a bit, but it's really quite special: Playground, formal garden, bench yoga stations, art gallery, etc., etc., etc. However, it was very dark when we got there last night, and quite cold. Mr. Jefferies and I used it for a half-hour exercise and stretch break. The cold air was a very welcome head-clearer at that point. The flash on my camera is not working, though, and the nighttime photos are useless. I need to get that camera looked at.... or replaced.

But how about a nice little giveaway instead of all that? Would that interest you? Of COURSE it would!

I was going to do a full review, with photos and all that, but when I Googled it, I saw that at least one person has already done that. So instead, I will point you in her direction, and say, "Yeah, what she said." And I'll go have another cup of coffee. Fair enough?

Let me know in the comments to this post by midnight tonight if you'd like this book, and I'll do a drawing tomorrow. Happy Sunday!